Jack

Jack reports having felt increasingly absent-minded over the past few years but attributes this to ‘old age’.

He has coped well and enjoyed life for many years with his regular routine of gardening and visiting the local pub two nights per week.

However, his wife is worried by his worsening memory. He keeps losing his wallet and glasses and forgetting the names of their grandchildren and great-grandchildren, whom he sees often.

Concerns were raised to their GP four weeks ago when he was suffering from a chest infection and became grossly disorientated in time and place.

Jack seemed to think that he was still working, asked to go home when he was in his own front room and misidentified his wife as his mother, who has been dead for many years.

This crisis has resolved but there has been a formal diagnosis of dementia and now Jack is worried that he is ‘going mad’. He remembers his mother developing dementia and requiring hospital care over a long period. He feels that this was a very undignified and depressing existence and he would rather be ‘put down, like a dog’ than go through the same.

Jack is finding it difficult to settle back into his normal routine and now constantly follows his wife around the house, seeking reassurance and refusing to be left alone. His wife is finding this hard to cope with.

Jack finds himself in a position that will be familiar to people living with dementia and their families – and in a position that is much less familiar to most formal carers.

People working in residential care, for example, who are used to helping people who need extensive support and physical care and who often have little remaining insight into their situations, need to stretch their imaginations to appreciate both the terrifying nature of a diagnosis of dementia and the potential that remains for a full and enjoyable life.

The toolkit is designed to encourage people living with dementia, together with formal and informal carers, to keep this potential at the front of their minds.

Jack is facing very real changes to his life, and his anxieties are made worse by his sense of his mother’s suffering.

It is entirely natural to have a sense of loss and to be frightened, depressed and angry in his situation.

Anyone speaking to Jack about his living with dementia needs to recognise the grief and anxiety which arises from his reactions to his mother’s experience. But they also need to recognise that he is in no sense less of a person.

One of the most inspiring developments for people living with dementia in the UK and elsewhere over the past 10 to 15 years has been how people have begun to accept the illness they are living with and to find ways to combat it.

A diagnosis of dementia is no longer something to be ashamed of, something too terrifying to be discussed, an instant ticket to the ‘loony bin’.

It is a condition that can be rationally analysed and adjusted to: self-help groups, in particular, have contributed to people and families fighting their way out of the crippling depression that so often accompanied a diagnosis of dementia and finding ways to make the most out of their lives.